User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Escaping the Prison of Olerr-Thayne/@comment-2246928-20161226043142/@comment-2246928-20171115190122

Suddenly, the door opened on its own to reveal the long, scarred face of the ferret that regularly stuffed the creatures with food, holding a small cauldron of the disgusting mush he referred to as oatmeal with 'his own special recipe" in his paws. Behind him, a big otter guard stood, his paw still holding the door he'd opened. His other paw held a spear, and both of them were garbed in the black of the Vizerikordat Vinschern.

Upon seeing the mob of prisoners gathered before him, unchained and led by a lean otter with a file, the ferret immediately screamed and launched the cauldron into the crowd, before spinning about and racing for the other end of the narrow, torchlit stone hallway. The otter, meanwhile, bravely gritted his teeth and jabbed the spear at Malachi and the mob of battered, half-starved escapees behind him. "''Ossiskiy! Carabern gulde vunchen!" ''

The scrawny fox, still grasping his injured wrist, sidled up behind Malachi and stutteringly whispered. "He... he sez he wants us t' stop."

"Stop, huh?" Low-Voice, a strange, fluffy creature of black and white fur and bright red-brown eyes, grinned wildly at the lone otter standing between them and freedom. "I'd like t' see that swampsucker try! Mob him!"